My Own Personal Virgin Mary
by peut-etre-poulet
Summary: Spoilers: WHAT KATE DOES - ConMama; When Sawyer first sees Claire he thinks she is his shot at redemption.


**Title::..**My Own Personal Virgin Mary  
**Spoilers::..**_What Kate Does_  
**Rating::..**G, nothing too racy in this one  
**Genre::..**Angst  
**Characters::..**Sawyer, Claire, Charlie and Aaron  
**Pairing::..**ConMama  
**Author's Note::..**_Lost_ fic 104. I think I wrote this after Claire had been revealed to Jin but before we heard her speak. So this was written when I still believed in ConMama, before Sawyer was like 'forget about Claire, she's crazy', which prompted me to be like 'f*ck you buddy!'. Over 4,000 words of me hoping and praying for ConMama to happen before the show ended.  
**Summary::..** _Claire wasn't Cassidy and the child she bore was not Clementine. Then why couldn't Sawyer stop staring at her?_ When Sawyer first sees Claire he thinks she is his shot at redemption.

* * *

Claire wasn't Cassidy and the child she bore was not Clementine. Then why couldn't Sawyer stop staring at her. Again-and-again he remembered the photo Cassidy had tried to bring him, the photo he had pushed away, as if that would keep him from thinking of her. He could go days where he didn't think of her and wonder about her. But for some reason he looked at the pregnant girl and all he could think of was the family he had thrown away.

She didn't appear terribly smart. She was standing amongst the luggage, lifting a large yellow case. Her teeth were grit in effort as she attempted to manoeuvre the case around her stomach. She dropped it aside, pushing her blonde hair out of her face. She was leaning over the pile, reaching out as far as her arm would stretch, for a duffle bag this time. She over-balanced and fell into the pile. She rolled onto her back, her hand still grabbing at thin air. If anyone else saw this they looked away again. He couldn't watch it any longer. He approached and picked up the bag she had been reaching for. She looked at him, her cheeks turning pink.

"Is this your bag?" He offered.

"Yeah, that's the one, I couldn't get to it." She replied. She attempted to lift herself up. She raised herself from the ground, only to fall back to the sand a moment later. "And now I can't get up." She laughed without much humour.

He offered his hand to her. "You couldn't ask someone to do your heavy lifting for you?" He easily lifted her off the ground.

"Nah, I'm more of the damsel in distress type. You know, think I can do everything myself and then cry for help when it doesn't go my way." She joked. "I'm Claire."

"Sawyer." He supplied.

"Well thank you Sawyer." She told him, beginning to leave quite slowly. She glanced back at him over her shoulder and offered him a small wave. He watched her walk away, sitting down on a piece of wreckage by herself. She fished out a pen and a small book, then began to scribble across the pages. All of the others walked past her. Nobody sat down with her. She was on her own, going from her home to America with a baby to bring into the world. He couldn't be angry at the guy who had knocked her up then left her to fend for herself. He had been that guy before.

* * *

Claire was the first to dare a conversation with Sawyer after his rumble with Sayid. His brain was fried from being in the sun for so long, he had sand constantly in his eyes and everyone on this island was a moron, other than the self-righteous Doc. He didn't like people in ordinary situations, being forced to socialize with them did not sit well with him. All he wanted to do was lash out. He shouldn't be here; he should be at a bar in Los Angeles, working at completely erasing his trip to Australia from his memory.

He saw her dirty Converse boots first. He looked up her legs, where her black skirt flirted above her knees. Over the bowling ball attached to the front of her thin frame and up to her pretty face. The anger lost its power, the acid melting off of his tongue. "Hey tough guy."

He chuckled sarcastically. "Hey Mamacita. I'd offer for you to sit down but I don't wanna have to help you up again."

She scoffed. "Real nice, how any woman could refuse such a chivalrous man is beyond me." She carefully lowered herself to the ground. She looked at him seriously now. "What was that all about? You know he didn't crash the plane."

His eyebrows shot up. "Oh is that what I know? Well thank you for telling me my opinion, much appreciated. If I think of a number between one and ten will you be able to guess it?"

"Seven." She informed him. "But that's not the point. Why did you do that?"

"Because I felt like it." He teased, prompting her to roll her eyes. "How did you know I was thinking seven?"

She shrugged. "I'm just a genius like that."

"Of course." He chuckled. She laughed and the smile on his face wasn't so quick to slip away. He found his headache seemed to be fading; now he had something enjoyable to take his mind off of it.

When she put her hand over his he flinched as if electrocuted. She was inspecting his grazed knuckles. "You busted your fists up pretty nice."

"I thought chicks dug scars." He commented.

She ran her fingertips lightly over the cuts. "Is this the part you're gonna play? The bad boy?"

"Well it's a part I have a lot of past experience playing." He replied. "Why? Doesn't the damsel like a bad boy?"

"If people see me with you I'm going to be alienated without any participation on my part." She explained.

"You so worried about what they think of you?" He asked.

"This comes from you? You picked a fight with a guy and then called him a terrorist just to show everyone how tough you are." She mocked, impressing him further. She wasn't afraid of him and she didn't seem to care much of what the others thought. No one else wanted to be anywhere near him but she wanted to help clean his hand off and he didn't want to tell her to go away, not at all.

* * *

Everyone continued to avoid Claire. He saw some of them socializing with her for a while, but they always removed themselves before she could get any ideas of depending on them and asking them for help. Everyone seemed to be running away from this girl. They were all so preoccupied keeping themselves alive, the responsibility of this girl and her kid kept them all wary. No one wanted her looking to them for help. They were all too scared. It was like seeing an old lady mugged – you wanted to help her but you didn't want to use up your whole afternoon going to the police station to fill out the report with her. It was a hassle.

Luckily for Claire, Sawyer had nothing better to do. A few people had worked together to build stronger, better shelters. But they had left Claire to collect her own materials and assemble the tent by herself. He moved into Jack's abandoned infirmary and that was it. This left him with a lot of energy to assist Claire. She wasn't tall enough and her round stomach prevented her from reaching anything in front of her. But she didn't complain, she simply shifted to a different position and reached again. She would not give up. Even when the tarp fell on top of her head, covering all of her body.

"Well it's got great ocean views but will it keep you comfortable in the rain?" He teased.

She fumbled to remove the tarp from her head. Her face pink with effort. "Oh, hey."

"You want some help?" He offered.

"Nah, that's exactly how I wanted it actually." Her sweet face untouched by the sarcasm.

It didn't take him much effort to flick the tarp over a piece of wreckage before finding a way to secure it in place. She attempted to help him but he pushed her away. He didn't mind helping her; she didn't complain of how the tarp dipped in the middle, she was grateful for anything she could get. Everyone who passed looked at them, gawked to be more precise. She raised her hand and waved cheerfully to a few, causing him to laugh.

"It's not great, I can fix it up later if you like." He told her.

She shrugged. "She'll be right. It's better than anything I could do."

"Well, that goes without saying." He said, playfully. He didn't see much reason to hang around and began to take steps out of the shelter.

Her face fell. "Oh. So you're going?"

"Yeah..."

"I was gonna offer you a bottle of water for your efforts." She stated.

"After what happened yesterday I didn't think I'd be a nice guy if I took water away from you." He told her. She pegged a bottle at him and he sat down. "You're not gonna scare me like that again, are you?" He asked, hating the concern tinging his words.

She looked away, her cheeks turning a darker shade of pink. "No."

* * *

Sawyer supposed he should be grateful when Claire moved up to the caves. This prevented him from growing too attached to her. The way things were going that kid was going to be born on this island. It was best they were separated now before he completely convinced himself this was his chance to redeem himself as the kind of man who could take care of a family.

She sat beside his bed, fussing over all of his new scars earned throughout the day. "Oh my God, what happened to your nails?"

He snatched his hand away from her silky touch. "I let Sayid give me a manicure." Her mouth dropped open so he continued quickly before she could complain further. "Who's takin' you to the caves?"

"Charlie." She replied simply.

"Who the hell is Charlie?" He asked.

"The short guy, he's about my height and he's got big ears." She pulled her own ears out.

He shook his head. "Okay, I know what he looks like. But who is he?"

"He's a guy that I've been hanging around with, a nice guy." She told him.

He raised his eyebrows. "A guy so nice you have to move to the caves with him?"

"I'm not moving to the caves with him, I'm moving to the caves and he happens to be there as well and..." She stopped, blowing her hair out of her face clearly flustered. "And why am I explaining this to you?" She fished around in her bag and pulled out a pair of feminine, orange sunglasses. "I came to give you these. I don't know why they were with my stuff but I saw them and they just screamed Sawyer to me."

He slipped them on to his face. "Ah, perfect!"

"Yeah, so while I'm gone can you not punch anyone, please?" She asked, her smile didn't hold much hope.

He sighed. "I ain't no good at keeping promises pumpkin."

"Maybe if the next time you feel like punching someone you could read a book." She offered.

"I'll try to remember that." He chuckled. "Well I'll see you next time."

"Yeah." She agreed getting to her feet. "Try to stay out of trouble." He watched as she waddled to where the Charlie guy stood with the rest of her things. Sawyer had seen him around the camp. He hadn't thought much of Charlie then and hardly trusted him in the task of taking care of Claire.

* * *

Charlie proved himself to be as much of a man as Sawyer had suspected. Losing Claire, how had he managed that? Sawyer knew if Claire had stayed on the beach she would be safe, not kidnapped by the perverts who lived out in the jungle. He would have beaten the crap out of Charlie, if not for the runt looking as if he were in pain to simply breathe. He didn't need Sawyer to come down on him, he already blamed himself enough.

Sawyer couldn't stay away from the jungle. He had never been one to sit around and wait. On his way into the forest he spotted Kate and decided she would make a good distraction today.

* * *

A nuclear explosion could not stop Sawyer from poking around in Claire's diary. It was mainly curiosity that had him inspecting the small blue book. But what had him flicking through the pages was spite. He wanted to hurt Claire the way she had hurt him by disappearing. If he found something he could use to humiliate Charlie, even better.

The first nine pages revealed to him a Claire quite different to the one he had come to know on the island. She ranted about the kid's father, Thomas. How he had promised they could make it work and so constantly sworn his love to her. Only to leave her with no income and no way to support herself and the baby. He felt guilt seeping in, this sounded too familiar. Although he began to think he should not be reading this he continued to turn the pages.

She wrote of her indecision over whether to put her unborn child up for adoption. She was convinced she wouldn't be able to hack it as a mother. Then a new character entered, the psychic, Mr Malkin. 'He gave me the ticket, I don't know why I took it, I don't even know why I'm packing my bags. I don't believe this loony, do I? Maybe I just want a free trip to L.A. I've never been outside of Australia, I hope it's good...'

He was in too deep now to pull back. He realized he should have when he read his own name but he didn't have enough strength to close the book. So he continued on, reading all of the things she didn't feel she could tell him. 'Nobody seems to like Sawyer, I guess I can see where they're coming from, he's a bit of an ass', he chuckled at this point. 'But he's kind to me. It's been so long since a guy has been so nice to me; if people had been this nice to me throughout the earlier parts of my pregnancy I might have been able to enjoy it more. I really like his dimples...'

Her tone began to sour. 'He calls me Mamacita and it's so obvious that's all he thinks of me. He sees the baby bump and that's all. I'm nothing more to him than the pregnant chick. It's pretty obvious he wouldn't even look at me if I weren't knocked-up. But it doesn't add up. Why does he care so much?' He considered closing the book here. But then Charlie's name began to pop up.

'Charlie is so sweet, I really like him. He always comes to see me, it's great having a companion again. Unlike with Sawyer I don't feel as if I have to work for Charlie's attention. He seems to like me. I had forgotten how nice it is to feel wanted...' More guilt infiltrated him; its movements sped up by jealousy.

"Where is Claire's diary?" Charlie demanded.

Sawyer played dumb. He shouldn't have read the diary and he wasn't going to let her privacy be further intruded by allowing Charlie to read it. The diary was safe under his pillow.

* * *

Claire had finally returned. He had waited for her, every single day. Now she had come back he felt as if he couldn't talk to her. She was a million miles away. She had no idea who he was. She wouldn't recognize him or remember a single thing about him. He supposed it could be a good thing. He could start over; correct all of the mistakes she had pointed out in the diary.

Charlie had come to collect her bags but Sawyer had withheld them. He had waited a little longer for Charlie to quit guard-dog duty before he took the bags. He didn't mind the walk up to the caves. It gave him enough time to ponder what he might say when he did see her face again.

The majority of the caves inhabitants stopped to watch him approach Claire. He supposed they had waited and wondered for this as much as he had. Claire was sitting beside the stream of water, attempting to wash her shoes. The others stayed far away from her, although their eyes hardly left her.

"Hey Claire." He greeted.

She turned around and with a puzzled expression offered him something like a smile. "Uh, hi."

"So you really don't remember anyone." He decided, up until now he had been able to entertain the idea that perhaps it wasn't true.

She shrugged. "Nope."

"Well I'm Sawyer and I been keepin' your stuff safe for you." He stated, placing the bags down beside her.

She instantly ripped them open. "Oh, perfect! A change of clothes. Whatever I was doing out in that jungle has made me smell _so_ bad. Thanks a lot."

"It's no problem." He replied.

"I guess I'll see you around." She said, getting up. She left, anxious to change.

Of all the times he had imagined Claire's return it had never been as strange as what he had just experienced.

* * *

Sawyer had risked his life and it seemed to be all for nothing. They were no closer to leaving the island now than they had been before Michael had gotten the bright idea to build a raft. He would die on this rock. He wasn't relieved to see any of their faces. He hadn't planned to see any of them again until the reunions the Oceanic people would surely organize.

Everyone acted so happy to see him, shaking his hand like he was some kind of hero. They had thought of him as a scumbag and given him dark glances whenever he had gone near them before. The bullet hole in his shoulder made him brave and fearless. He didn't like their admiration, it wasn't necessary. He considered he preferred being disliked.

Claire was without the baby when she came to speak to him. "You're back."

He looked up; her eyes were brighter than he had remembered. "Uh, yeah."

"It's good to see you." She said, stepping a little closer.

"You too, you look...thin." He told her, although the shirt she wore didn't flatter her regained figure.

She blushed, pulling the long shirt down the centimetre it had crawled up. "Oh, thanks. You look...uh, well...alive. That's good. We got worried about you."

"We?" He repeated, eyebrows raised.

"Okay, just me." She admitted, making him laugh the way she used to be able to. "I didn't want you to feel unpopular."

"Much appreciated." He told her.

She had edged herself over to a seat now. "I haven't got my memories back yet. But I must've read my diary over a hundred times. You were in there a lot, I'm not sure if I had a crush on you or not."

"You were writing about me in your diary, are you sure you shouldn't be in junior high right now?" He asked.

She laughed. "I think junior high girls make more sense than me. I'm changing my mind every second page."

"That seems like every damn women I've ever known." He said.

"So charming." She replied sarcastically.

He wondered where the baby was. He supposed Charlie had it. He had been applying for the position as babysitter before Sawyer had left. Claire had undoubtedly approved his application in the absence of an alternative option. She needed someone to take care of her and her kid. Better it be Charlie than himself.

"I was worried you wouldn't come back." She confessed, serious and pink-faced.

"You woulda gotten by." He shrugged.

"Don't be so sure." She said. "After reading so much about you I feel like I should know you and I don't. If you had've died I wouldn't have gotten to know you, not really."

"I guess you got lucky then." He told her.

"Yeah." She agreed. She smiled, biting into her bottom lip in that shy way, which suggested she was trying to keep such a beautiful smile subdued. "I'm glad. Maybe we could hang out sometime? It could cause a memory trigger."

Did he want Claire remembering how frustrated she had been when he had made her 'work' for his attention? On the other hand spending time with Claire was more enjoyable than spending time with the others – especially Kate, who had dedicated all of her time to telling him who he was and how he could improve himself. He nodded. "Sure." Would he have given her any other answer?

She released her lip to grin warmly. "Great." She raised herself from the seat. "I should probably get back to Aaron and Charlie, y'know."

"Aaron?" He repeated.

"Oh, I named my son Aaron." She told him, pride filling her voice.

"That's, uh, nice." He said.

She laughed, despite his stiffness. "Thanks. Maybe I could bring him when we're hanging out. You guys haven't seen each other for a while."

"I ain't gonna be a babysitter." He stated.

She innocently showed him her palms. "Did I say that?"

"No but you were thinking it." He accused, causing her to laugh as she left. "I'll see you later."

She spun around to face him, finally unleashing her smile. "Definitely."

* * *

Claire was asleep, her head resting on her shoulder. Meanwhile Aaron was wide awake, staring straight at Sawyer. He was nervous, expecting something to go wrong. Claire needed to rest. But what if the baby started to cry and she slept through it? He continued to read, it seemed to keep the kid happy and quiet.

Aaron stared at him with Claire's curious blue eyes. He had no interest for his mother at the moment. The kid's eyes were huge. He felt Aaron was seeing too much, could read his mind with such large eyes. Perhaps Aaron knew everything about Sawyer, after hearing him talk through his mama's stomach and now seeing him. Aaron knew too much.

Claire's arms began to slip. Aaron was leaning forward, sliding down her front. He let out a whine of protest but she didn't respond. Her arms fell limp by her sides. Aaron continued to slide, threatening to tip off the side of her lap. He couldn't keep his head straight. He was falling, unable to balance himself.

Sawyer moved forward to take the kid. Seeming to feel the weight lifted from her lap Claire curled her legs up into her chest, completely undisturbed. Aaron stared at Sawyer as he held the baby at arm's length. What now?

* * *

Claire would have to be in a coma not to notice how little time he was spending with her and the kid. He was making her work for his attention again, he was sure she would tell her diary. He could imagine the amount of pages her frustration would demand. There was no one for her to discuss this with, she obviously couldn't talk to him about such a subject, the diary was the only place to get her aggression out so she could keep smiling.

He knew exactly why he was avoiding her. She could only draw up assumptions and let these assumptions determine her emotions. He could guess she thought this separation was all due to Charlie's death. This was partly the reason. It tied in with him preferring to live with Hurley than her. He didn't want to play the daddy to her family. He didn't want her crying on his shoulder and telling him about how much she missed Charlie.

This would raise her expectations. The higher he brought them the more they had to fall; all the more he could disappoint her. He would disappoint her. There was no 'if' about the situation. She should consider herself lucky he wasn't wasting her time. She was better off not growing attached to him, her and the kid would benefit from him keeping his distance.

He couldn't separate himself completely. Claire had a hold over him. Even though he knew this would be bad for her he couldn't pull himself from her. She was his faith. He needed to see her every day to remind himself that not everything had turned to hell and there still were reasons to smile. This seemed to work...

...for a while.

Looking at her now there was no hint of Charlie's death. The way she was acting it was as if she hadn't cared for him at all. She would greet Sawyer with a smile, never mind how it couldn't quite reach her eyes, her voice sounded the same. So far as he could tell she was still the same Claire. There was no point in asking her about Charlie, she was clearly over it.

Until one day when she stopped smiling. "I suppose you want me to serve you coffee and cookies with some flirting and smiling?"

"Did I say that?" He asked innocently.

"No, but you were thinking about it. That's what you come here for, for me to be all smiley and bubbly. I can guarantee if I don't smile for this visit you won't come back tomorrow." She explained. "You only want me when I'm smiling, not when I actually need someone to talk to."

"Should I just leave?" He offered.

"Yeah, why don't you?" She snapped. "Just go, run away from your problems as usual."

* * *

This was his chance to make it up to Claire. He could show her that he could be there for her during the bad times to take care of her and Aaron. She couldn't be angry at him after this. He didn't mind protecting her like this. If it were simply he and Miles out here in the jungle pointing the gun at their enemies would be pointless. Neither of them was worth protecting. Claire and Aaron needed to be protected, their lives were important.

He was winning her back. She could believe she could trust him again. He was working his way back up from the status of pig. It would take more time to make her think of him as a hero. But he was willing to work for it.

Then she slipped through his fingers, like water. He couldn't close his hands around her. She was there one minute. He re-opened his eyes and she had disappeared. She was gone and no matter how loud he yelled he couldn't bring her back. He had failed her. Exactly as he had thought he would.

* * *

She wasn't real, he was certain of this. Sawyer knew Claire was dead. He must have finally cracked, after spending so long on this island it had taken his mind. There were a lot of crazy things he had seen here. (In hindsight a polar bear was one of the least worrying things one could find themselves faced with in the jungle) There was no doubt in his mind that the smoke monster was real.

But Claire was dead. Such a small girl out in the jungle by herself with close to no survival skills. It was easier to believe he had begun to hallucinate. The idea that Claire had lived through losing her son, the time-travelling and had somehow avoided the Others so she could come face-to-face with him after all of this time was unfathomable.

He blinked many times. She wouldn't disappear. He approached and she remained. When he reached out to her he felt the soft skin of her cheek. She wouldn't go away. She spoke and she breathed. She was real. Somehow she had lived. She was with him again. All of this time he had put her out of his mind, certain she was dead. But she was alive. Claire had lived.

She looked like Claire. But she was unlike the Claire he had once been so taken by. She wasn't Cassidy. She wasn't his chance at redemption either. She was simply someone to hold close as he waited for Hell to finally claim him.

**The End.**


End file.
